Bernice

Oh, HOLDEN CAULFIELD!? You mean that madman who came up to me and my friends in the Lavender room?? He told us his name was JIM STEELE!! *Look around room* Anyways he starting hitting on me, Marty and Laverne, we couldn’t help but laugh, and then he looked SO upset. I mean he was giving us the once-over for goodness sakes! He kept asking us to dance about a thousand times, but he was really looking at ME. (This sort of freaked me out).

Gosh, it was so hilarious. He looked like he was almost an adult but he sure didn’t act like it. That boy looked drunk, and I sort of felt sorry for him, talking to girls that aren’t even his age. I had to stop myself from saying “Who do you think you are?” but ‘course, he was still a child so I had to act sophisticated, or who knows! He looked like the type to take advantage.

I finally succumbed and he looked like he won a gold medal. He told me I was a great dancer about a thousand times, I wasn’t really listening; I swear, I thought I saw Elizabeth Taylor. Then he kissed me right on my forehead out of nowhere! And I was all “hey! What’s the idea?!” I mean who will kiss someone just because they’re a terrific dancer!?

*Break*

After he danced with Marty, she came back and screamed she saw a glimpse of Gary Cooper!! Gosh, Marty’s SO lucky! She actually SAW him! Gosh I went sore after that but I couldn’t help but be excited that I was in the same room as George Cooper.

Anyways we lied that we wanted to see the early sunset tomorrow after he had asked us where we were from, and before I can think of a lie, ‘course Marty and Laverne had to say we were from Seattle. I mean, came from Seattle, Washington to New York, with my best friends, Marty and Laverne. To be honest; we were sort of hoping to bump into celebrities.

Then he was asking us where we worked and I was sure he was gonna ask us what our house number and address was. Gosh, that kid was one creepy madman. So I had to drag Marty and Laverne out of the Lavender room. So much for trying to bump into celebrities.

And I could feel his creepy eyes on me the whole time we were practically running out of the Lavender room. When we finally got out, we collapsed laughing and went to central park to go look for more movie stars.

Holden Caulfield's Clinical Report

Department of Mental and Language Disorder

The New York Psychiatric Institute

Statement of Problem

Holden was seen at The New York Psychiatric Institute for a mental and language evaluation for a brain examination to see his progress. He was referred by Dr. Chase, his assigned doctor. The client was accompanied to the clinic by Mr. and Mrs. Caulfield, his parents. He wishes to gain information about Phoebe Caulfield, states his younger sister. The following is a summary of result based on the case history form, parent interview, assessment results and observation obtained before and after the evaluation.

Birth History

School Performance

Medical History

Developmental History

Behavioral Issues

Evaluation History

Holden Caulfield was born in 1932 in New York, his school performances have been disappointing and he has recently been expelled from Pencey Prep, due to lack of participation in his classes. Pencey Prep is now his fourth school to be expelled from and it is likely he will be going to another boarding school after his break and rehabilitation.

After interviewing Mr. and Mrs. Caulfield, we have found out that Holden has not been doing very well in school and seems to be flunking numerous classes, he had several conflicts with Mr. Caulfield, but they have stated that he is extremely fond of his siblings and is a typical, adolescent. Mr. and Mrs. Caulfield report that he has only been to the hospital once when he broke his hand in an accident, but he has no developmental history yet and he appears to have not been prescribed any drugs for his mental issues so far.

Behavioral Observations

Before we evaluated, we had talked to him and his attitude was mainly secretive and uncooperative. His memory is descriptive during certain events, detached and unreliable during other stressful ones. He has low interest in conversations and he became tense when we spoke of his younger brother, Allie, who passed away. His behavioral issues appear to be that he is a pessimistic and negative individual and would zone out of the moment and lose his train of thought constantly. He is very sarcastic and he mentioned many girls to our doctors. When he is not talking, he becomes very quiet and has troubler relating to the topic.

After the evaluation, he seems to be more joyful and talked continuously. We had tried to usher him out of the room, but he seems ignorant to people who try to talk to him while he is talking. Doctors believe that he may have trouble socializing at school, because when clinicians asked of his interests, he began to ask them for a drink which he thought was fairly strange. When addressed directly, he seems to divert the topic so that he finished by talking about one of his friends. Holden engaged in task but stopped half way through to talk about one of his other friends. Doctors believe that he does not like attention turned on him and he disengages in task in the end and is hard to get him back on track after being interrupted by his thoughts.

Summary & Recommendations

Based on the result of his evaluation, we believe he has symptoms for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PSTD), a severe anxiety disorder. Holden’s lack of enthusiasm shows that he may have trouble interacting with others. We recommend he take some stress relieving pills to calm his nerves after evaluating that he is very jittery and he should be heard by a professional psychiatrist and see if we can help him. After evaluating Holden, we have found out that his mind process is scattered and disorganized and the contents of his mind show that he may have delusions, paranoia, and suicidal ideas.

Although Holden’s referral to several of his friends, after we observed closely, we believe that he does not know many of them quite well. This proves that he is desperate for affection and is caught up in his own thoughts to live well society due to the fact that he finds it difficult to grasp the fact that not everything is the same as what he thinks in his mind. Due to the fact that he has a mental disability, he will have to be thoroughly checked for any other problems. If he has a serious mental damage, he will have to be diagnosed as soon as possible. So far, he seems to be fine but has sure symptoms for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Psychiatrists recommended that he has rehabilitation for at least two months, once a week and have therapy every day. Although rehab is recommended, the result may not suggest that he will be accepted for rehab in the schools. Please send a copy of this report with specialists at Holden’s school to determine if he will be accepted for therapy in that specialized setting. If he cannot qualify for our specific therapy classes and pschiatrist meetings, he will be placed on the waiting list at New York Psychiatric Institute. Because of the size and limited space at the clinic, we cannot guarantee a spot for Holden until we decide if his situation is serious and needs immediate services. His status on the waiting list will expire in an year, if it does, we suggest Holden to come and check in again. The expiration date will be on November 6th, 1956. If you have not received any scheduled appointment for Holden by this date, or if Holden’s situation becomes worse, a re-evaluation will be scheduled to determine any severe changes.

Tension

I was walking to the park, clad with winter clothes, head to toe. That was when I saw Holden, Holden Caulfield. I blinked my eyes but it was no figment of my imagination, Holden Caulfield was helping a little girl with her ice skates! He was even talking to the little girl. This completely surprised me since the last time I saw him, his disposition was irascible and despondent, especially after he lost his younger brother. But, other than that, he was a lonely, strange person.

Anyways, once the younger girl left with tremulous hands, I walked over to him gingerly, because he was easily rankled, and said "Hi". To my surprised, once I got closer, he looked strangely serene. But then again, he was a weird guy, maybe even a recluse. He finally looked up but didnt seem to rrecognize m, which explains a lot since he was drunk and telling me about some girl named Jane... yes, he is a strange, haunting guy.

"Hey! Holden!" I finally say rather spontaneously. He looked up with deep, interminable eyes and asked me if I wanted a drink. I just stared at him, not believing what I heard.

"Um. Do you even remember me?" I say, ignoring his question. I was, as any other individual would be, freaked out. But instead of freaking out on the spot, I just sighed and walked away since this reunion wasnt going so well.

"Wait! Jane, Bernice, Sally, Faith, Sunny, and..." he muttered, "Mari!" He yelled. Then thats when I turned around and regretted it after looking into his glassy eyes. Well, Holden, who I surmised was an alcoholic, is someone you can never get used to, no matter how many times you unfortunately bump into him. So I was pretty much electrified when the smell of cigarettes pervaded through my lungs and fogging my lungs.

"Yeah," I answered, regretting my decision of talking to him in the first place. I had pretty much gotten over the strange aroma that came from me, but it still left me dizzy.

"Can you, Mari, answer me honestly?" he says with an imperative tone.

"O... okay," I stutter.

"Should I go home now?" he asks, his eyes eager for the truth.

"I... I dont know, yes?" I finally stammer out.

His eyes flashed to an impatient look that made me bite back a scream, but just as fast as it came, it disappeared. He stood up as I stepped back, like clock work. He shook my hand vigorously and my hand slightly shifted to the pocket on my bag with my pepper spray in it (which I carried around after my last encounter with Holden on the streets). I finally extricated my hand from his tight grip. His eyes filled with excitement and ran off down the street. God, that crazy guy, I'm so not going to talk to him. EVER.

Roller Coasters

The neon lights blink,

confiscated cameras, dumped in the bin.

The slovenly done roller coaster stands in front of me.

I prudently step into the coffin as

the lackadaisical parents talk,

I embark on the roller coaster.

Up, up and up.

The moon is visible in the orange sky,

Conscientiously I look down;

grass that grow in profusion leak between the streets.

I depict kids dressed as witches, zombies are small dots on the littered floor below.

Up, up and up we go.

No one screams,

like a huge monster holding it's breath,

prepare for the tantrum.

My black witch dress clings on to me when the wind blows.

The audacious kid next to me is close to tears,

his vampire face, is as pale as he is.

We go up and up.

And then we fall.

The lights is one rainbow.

The cries is one roar.

The "Trick-or-treats!" that the children who pilfer candy scream is a blur.

My first roller coaster ride.

The Catcher in the Rye

Away from the noise, and the smell of grass.
Waiting for some sort of feeling,
to come rushing in and help me out the door,
to a new life.
Kicked out, game over
again, and now the hemorrhages
will kick in.

My hands are freezing, the sky purple and looks like a water color painting,
the grass is wet and slippery.
The wind is like a thousand knives piercing through,
trying to get to me.
But I'm waiting. For the good-by, for something to come.

Old Spencer is waiting, so I leave.
Wanting to leave the crazy me,
the smoking, and the skipping classes.

I'm leabing all this behind;
Ackley, Old Spencer, Stardlater, and ths dump
that my parents put me in,
like the other three schools.
My touchy parents.
My brother,
who has so much fame,
he can let them slide through his fingers
like cins.
And then there's me,
with no clothes because of the thiefs, misplaced items because of the bullies, flunked classes and moving on.

Before I Fall

In Before I Fall, Lauren Oliver creates a story about romance, friends and the thought that you can’t always turn back the clock and re-do things. It is a story about a girl called Samantha (also known as Sam) who dies in a car accident on her way to a party with her friends. She gets a second chance after she dies, seven chances to be exact, she relives her last day again and again and discovers the true value in life and the mystery that surrounds her death and finds out that there is more to life than having the best choice in everything to the cafeteria table, to best parking spots, she has her friends and a perfect boyfriend, but there is more than that to her life.

While the day is re-winding itself again and again she discovers a new crush that she never notices before, Kent. She tries to save a girl, Juliet Sykes, a girl who has trouble fitting in. As the day repeats, Sam tries over and over to protect Juliet from her unnecessary fate. Sam realizes that she is living a perfect life and but has a strained relationship with her family. She decides to spend more time with her family with the realization that any day can be her last.

She struggles with her boyfriend, being consider the popular girl, and staying friends with the popular clique—Lindsay, Ally, and Elody on top of having to help a friend from a serious situation. This story has a sense of seriousness, romance, humor, and suspense. It is a mix of everything I’ve read and keeps me reading and try find out what’s going to happen and something that’ll keep you up all night trying to finish.

My Sister

is a wave.

My sister is lightning.

My sister is a spark that never ignites.

My sister is a criminal,

my sister is a clown,

my sister is a shepherd.

My sister was there when I was embarrased.

When I was scared.

When I was lonely.

She is a timer that won't go off

She believes in being polite, she goes

on tirades at the wind.

My sister is a sophmore.

My sister is a purse that ran out of money. She drove

the shopkeepers insane.

She is a wolf

in sheep fur. She is a lion. A vulture;

a cat.

She lives,

In the mirror. With a new lip stick,

mascara. Half the bottle

of foundation.

Taught me

to respect. Because of her,

my ideas are restrained

in my own mind. Because of her I've learnt

to obey. To keep myself

limited. Because of my sister, I know how to talk back.

I know how to curse.

Because of my sister, I don't intend to

relax. Because of my sister, I starve

to live my own life.

8 Things

1.) I'm extremely paranoid and think about things that can never happen.

2.) I admit it, I'm obsessive. If I dont have things done I try to make it happen until it actually does.

3.) I dont have a hobby or any visible talent. I suck at art, I burn everything I cook, I dont play an instrument or sing, I read extremely slowly, I dont do any sports,and cant even work a computer right and end up breaking it.

4.) I like wearing baggy shirts that I find in the plus-sized women section at Wal-Mart and not do anything all day and look like a pig in a over-sized shirt an jogging shorts.

5.) I always plan things in my head and really commit to it but when the right moment to do it comes, I chicken out so fast I actually run away from whatever it is.

6.) I cant talk back to my sister because knowing her, she will kill me and then I end up sitting there with my eyes wide open.

7.) I hate it when little kids stare at you for the longest time ever and you have to pretend you dont notice them.

8.) When I'm really frustrated I go very quiet (yes, even quieter than usual) and then whenI cant take it anymore I explode, first I'm happy then I'm angry and then I get very very emotional.

Change

The light streamed in from the windows as I play with the blocks with Andrew, my friend. You may think its ordinary but then you'll know something is amiss when you notice that every other girl in the room has a barbie doll or Polly Pocket or whatever, but for me, it was just me, Andrew and... the power ranger turtles scattered around us. Yep, I was always the tom boy recluse in the grade. I have a feeling i has something to do with the fact that my dad so desperately wanted a boy and decided to raise me like one.

Instead of a Dora the Explorer backpack I had this weird black one, that had a black pencil case, a black P.E bag and in the middle of the blackness I'll have this bright yellow jacket that I refused to take off. Yep, I was a pretty weird little girl.

One day five girls came up to me, all blonde with a barbie doll in one hand, a Care Bear in the other and a pink barbie backpack. These were the types of girls I abhored from (not now, that was then), I had my usual yellow jacket, an orange T-shirt, and jeans and the usual black objects. I cant tell you details since I dont remmber that well but I just know that after some name calling I had chunks of blonde hair in my hands and was sent to a time-out. Of course I love blondes and am not a tomboy anymore but after that, I was despondent and too afraid to wear yellow, black or touch an action figure.

People Who Laugh....

I am impeled to ask, why do boys, and maybe girls, like violent or scary movies? For one thing they haunt my mind for ages when I see it on TV. I mean yeah I must admit I find myself snickering when the guy with the gun is threatening to blow one's head off into a billion pieces. But the point is, I'd like to imagine someone who thinks thoe movies are hilarious, to be in the character's position, and I'm sure, a one-hour movie will be interminable if it is SAW 3 or another gruesome movie.

I'm sure that those movies are very interesting but really, is it that funny? I turn on the TV, and its an ordinary movie, but something is amiss after the man becomes a recluse and start collecting machetes or something. I used to think scary movies were the most interesting things on this planet (and sometimes still do) until I imagined myself in the position. I don't know about other people, but I entreat you to not start laughing your heads off when someone is whimpering right next to you.

I'm sure people who like horror movies and is reading this, may think I am on a tirade but really, dont you get annoyed wen your at the movies, and this one guy starts laughing like crazy when the gun shot almost reverberates around the room? And then I come out of the movies all tremulous and almost despondent.

Trust me, I'm not this irascible but doesn't anyone else agree?

Confession For Charlie

I've probably told a few of you before but my cat bites me like CRAZY. My face, my arms, my legs and my neck and everywhere! I woke up this morning and grabbed Charlie as he aimed at my face once again (for people who don't know Charlie, he is my adorable, orange, and fluffy male kitten!) I carried him to the kitchen after I washed up. My mom was starting to complain about how I promised to feed him everyday an that she always has to scrape out the cat food and feed him. I must admit, I haven't been taking care of Charlie recently. I'm never around to comfort him after a cold bath, or massage his paws after his nails were cut, or even blow into his ears after his ears were cleaned. I'm only here to fill in his dinner and although I'm at home, I dont bother to clean out his litter box.

I apologize to my mom and say I'll do it tomorrow...like always. After I get changed I walk to the bathroom to fix my hair, not noticing Charlie sitting in the hall looking up at me with real huge eyes. I've recently noticed and as soon as I got home, I hug my cat for quite a while, I mean I dont know whether I'll try to be here for him but al I'm saying is that he'll always has his hugs no matter what.

Picture Day

It was picture day. The weather man said that it would be snowing all day (yep, another day of frizzy goodness...not). I splash on some more anti-frizz spray and iron my hair flat. I was already late and the air smelled like hair spray and singed-hair. I couldn't realy see what time it was because I was too busy taming my hair, but my mom hd already left for work so it was pretty late.

This year I had to look OK. Last year my hair looked like it was dragged across the desert, dumped into water and then electrocuted... basicallyit wasn't pretty. My friends all straigtened their hair for picture day. Oh, yeah, I'm really proud of being curly/wavy/frizzy/i don't even know what-haired.

I was imagining my grandparent's face when they saw my finally pretty photo. And how my sister can't tease me anymore. Something really smelled like burning plastic. My face was hot. I kept ironing my hair, pressing the iron harder and harder. Blasting the music higher (I was already late anyways). Something was definitely burning now. I was finally done with my hair. I wipe the mist off the mirror and almost fainted. Black. Shriveled. Singed. It looked like I haven't washed my hair in days, it looked like... positively, definitely worse thna last year.

Lost Voices

I sit at the dinner table.

My food untouched.

A spotlight on me.

You were yelling for almost 10 minutes now.

Going on and on

about anorexia.

You yell. I try t walk away.

You keep yelling,

grabbing my arm.

I stare at you.

A billion retorts ringing

in my head.

My mother,

who complains about my father,

who complains about me.

One day you say;

"You and me are a lot alike"

now your telling me we're not.

Now we're bonding.

The day you hold a pretty necklace,

and ask me what I think,

I say its nice

without even looking up.

Tears sting my eyes,

while you yell.

But my ears are muffled. My head stuffed with cotton.

I need to speak what's on my mind.

Am I allowed to?

Fear holds me back.

I feel my arm aching.

I pull it away from her hands that were once soft,

but now feels

like knives.

I run into my room,

lock the door.

And I cant wait

for the day

I'll be brave enough

to speak the retorts in my head, that lost their vices.

Friendly Letter

Mari Onozato
123 Amazing Street

Panama City, Panama

September 8th 2010

Dear Minnie,

I know that I've written you a letter before but you were the first friend who popped in my mind when we were supposed to write a friendly letter. It is imperative that i write to you again because we haven't been talking much. I know you are well because I talked to our other friend yesterday on BBM. I remember when we both spent the Summer on the mountain and you tripped me down the hill. But anyway we modified the excruciating pain by rubbing weird leaves on my arm. But ANYWAY (again) we never talk that much anymore its always...

Me: Hey! How are you?
You: Hi. I'm good, you?
Me: Good

*End of Conversation*

I've never been the type to keep in touch. You instilled me into writing letters back and forth and I can't stand that we don't write anymore.

We were never the same were we? You'd always put glitter on your nails, I'd put purple on mine. You always had your hair high up in a pony tail and mine would curtain my face. But I would have been missing you completely if you didn't trip me all the time or if you didn't pull my hair every time I annoyed you. Which recurred many times :P. I hope your doing great! With your new boyfriend and everything, the thing I miss the most is every one's sunny disposition. Our conjecture that we'd grow apart but we're still in touch longer than I thought. The first few weeks I left we spontaneously text and wrote letters

Look Again

I must confess that I hate people who only judge people from looks. Like they say "In every obese man, there is a skinny man inside" I think that that sentence is the smartest thing I've ever heard. I mean, sure looks are definitely a good thing. But like I always tell every friend who choose looks over personality, I tell them what if a mass murderer was the most "nicest" and cutest man you've ever seen? Would you still be crazy about him? If you do then there's probably something wrong with you. But I guess it's not really my choice. I've seen my sister get hurt because some jerk she was dating thought that her hair "wasn't curly" and how she's "not tall enough".

I suppose I usually liked the guys who were...yeah and then I found out they were complete idiots. And I think that I should honestly tell everyone that some people aren't always what they look like and if you do, then I tell my sister "if this world came to an end, and you and your wonderful boyfriend were the only people on earth, would you still be happy? Or would you just not are anymore because there's no one else to impress?" obviously after that she kicked me out of her room but I heard her crying when the door slammed shut. So look again.

Now I Know

What happens when someone you love is gone? I guess I wouldn't be angry. Its not like he purposely went away. I used to talk to my grandfather everyday. My dad was pretty stressed that week. He was always with grandpa, I begged to come all the time, so I can tell my grandfather my worries. But my dad says no. It happened when I was still really small. I was frustrated at my dad because he went to grandpa's house everyday, and I only got to speak to him once a week on the phone. I stopped taking grandpa's phone calls, just so he'd miss me at least a bit.

I finally take his call. He says he's going away. "With daddy?" I ask (Just so you know, I was still pretty small) He says he's going by himself. I wonder about insisting for more information. But i stop myself. "I'll see you next week, right grandpa?" He says maybe.

The idea of what he would say keeps popping up i my head. i knew that if I did find out, this nagging feeling will go away. I knew this strange idea would be gone...I ask one day to my dad "Why hasn't grandpa called? Why cant i visit him? Where is he? Whats wrong?" But my dad walks out the door tells me to go in the car and we finally drive to grandpa's house. I regret it, I should have insisted for more information, I didn't want to go in, i wanted to turn. But i walk into his room, and see my grandpa's face, barley visible, so pale like the papers in a book. There were plastic tubes everywhere. The curtains drawn. The bed sheets pulled up so high his mouth is almost covered. Then I break down. Knowing cant call him again. Knowing he wont make me hot chocolate and comfort me when my parents are having a fight.

We go home. Finally. "Now you know" my father says. I remember all the time lost where I was ignoring grandpa, or where I was too busy to go to his house. I cry into my pillow. And scream for god knows how long. The next day was the funeral.

Being "Obsessive"

OK, I know this is kind of like my confession from last year but today I've heard it nine times...NINE times. I woke up and was flossing (I usually floss twice every time I brush my teeth) and suddenly my sister, Sara barges in and almost knocking me out with the door. This usually happens so I learned to ignore it. I sigh and carry on brushing. I was brushing my hair when my sister pushed me.

"What?" I say annoyed. My hair was everywhere now and the brush was cracked into two pieces because I accidentally hit in on the wall...this was the third time now. She told me to move so I start complaining that my hair was going to be frizzy and how my hair will turn out ugly.

"God! Stop being so obsessive and get the (bad word) out!" she screams. I almost hit her for that, but again, I've learnt to control myself or I end up getting hurt....

The second time was from my own dad. So I was in my mom's bathroom since I was kicked out from the other one, and I was bushing my hair when my dad's waiting impatiently at the doorway.

"Wait! I'm almost done!" I say in a rush, and about five minutes later he looked like he was going to burst.

"Mari! Your hair looks fine! I saw you brushing it ten minutes ago! So stop being obsessive and get ready for school!" he was practically yelling so I had to get out.

The third time was from my neighbour. I was getting on the elevator and she was holding the door for me because I forgot my markers for my hand. I had to go back three more times and the elevator and the lady looked aggravated.

"Don't obsess about your hand and hurry up!" she was shouting so this made the elevator ride really awkward.

The next two times was because of my hand again. My mom and the little girl that sits next to me on the bus. I didn't even know that little girl! She only got upset because I got red ink on her khaki pants! My mom started yelling at me about skin cancer and stuff, now that was taking it to a whole new limit.

After my mom and I shouting I stopped writing on my hand as much as always. (Now that my mom said it, I'm not going to stop in what I think is okay.)

The next three times was about work. Once from my friend, another from my own grandfather, and once from my friend on BBM.

So as you can see, people think I'm obsessive, but I'm really not, honestly!

My List of Confessions

1.) I haven't been cleaning out the cat litter recently, so now everyone avoids my cat's room.
2.) I haven't been sticking to my diet these last few days, I eat at least a bag of chips everyday (and maybe a few dozen cookies...).
3.) I'm scared of a LOT of things, for example, clowns, ghosts, heights, closed in spaces, spiders, snakes, the dark, masked people, mirrors, scarecrows...clowns....
4.) I never talk to my parents if I can help it. Because I end up sitting for an hour listening to them go on and on (imagine this in Japanese).
5.) These past weeks I've been having an obsession for a raise in my allowance even though my parents have raised it three times already (this is the one and only time I talk to my parents).
6.) Yesterday, while my sister was out with her friends, I sneaked into her room and dumped nail polish in ALL her magazines (in all shades of pink that exists).
7.) I read text messages more than I read books--which I normally read.
8.) Sometimes I feed my mom's flowers with apple juice....(Only when I'm annoyed at her though.)
9.) I always use hand gestures to my grandparents to my grandparents because apparently, they cant understand my Japanese anymore.
10.) I always buy razors and shave even though my mom says I cant until I'm fourteen.

I Look Through The Photo Album

because it reminds me of the times in Japan,

I flip to my favorite page,

me and my friend at the carnival.

We go there to escape,

from school, stress, and parents.

We don't go on rides today.

My friend's too depressed,

about a guy who rejected her.

We hang out at the water balloon stall.

The man behind the counter

impatiently waiting for us to do something.

I didn't read the sign. The sign that said:

CLOWNS IN THE CARNIVAL! STARTING TODAY!!!

I walk toward the hall of mirrors. Ashamed to admit I was bored of comforting her.

I walk around in the hall of weird mirrors. Like always.

Wait. What was that?

I trace my steps. Where I saw a flash of red.

A...clown. He's just standing. With a smile.

I gulp.

I stare

at myself. Wishing he'd walk away. He doesn't. I cant take this anymore. I scream.

I hear footsteps and "Little girl!!" called after me.

Burst outside. My eyes shut tight.

Keep running. I grab my friend and head home.

Flashes of red hair. Pale skin. Red smile. Ugly clothes. Flashing and flashing.

I put on loud music of rebels.

Whatever, it's just a clown....

The Tell-Tale Heart: Police

The police station was quiet. Just the occasional turn of a newspaper. I was staring at the oil lamp until we received a call from a lady. The ringing of the phone echoing in the dim-lit room. I derived it was something urgent like a kidnapping since it was the middle of the night. We picked up the phone. A lady was screeching into the receiver, stating she hear a shriek from the house next door. We succumbed after half an hour of her explaining what she had witnessed. And we agreed to take a look. I surmised it was nothing, just someone dropping a cup and shrieking I and two other officers climbed into the coach. The moon was shining eerily in the pitch-black sky, hanging there like an orb.

I grimaced when I swallowed bitter coffee that barley quenched my dehydrated throat; I coughed as we drove in to the darkness. We came to the first house and I made a cursory glance down the street. Nothing suspicious. We wait after we knocked standing on the stairs that were clad with snow. A man in red robes stood under the frame of the door. We ask if he heard anything. He nods. A shriek from the house down the street, he corroborated. We nod and said goodnight.

We went to the house the neighbour and the lady were speaking of. The house stood proudly against the dark sky, as if proving us wrong. It was a perfect house, other than some abrasions on the wood, stating that it's old.

I knocked on the door that simulated black ice. A man appeared smiling warmly, he looked as if he was awake for hours maybe. We ask if we could take a look inside, he welcomes us in as if he was waiting for us for a very long time. We walk gingerly into the house. Room after room. We enter the master's room last, where an inventory of precious goods were left untouched. We were satisfied.

We sat in the warm room and chatted as if we were all best of friends. The man looked uncomfortable allof a sudden, perhaps we should leave...but my partners were deep in conversation. The man stood up suddenly. Talking rapidly. Faster and faster. Grated the chair. Stomped on the creaky floor boards. I was alarmed at his actions. My voice fades away. The man looked as if he was ready to scream and run for miles. And finally. Finally he burst. Ripping the floor boards apart. Yelling. Louder and louder. Until a dead man with milky eyes lay. Stone dead.

Lip Gloss, Mascara, Hope

I sit in the classroom with my friend. "Oh, my gosh! He is totally looking at you!" I squeal excitedly. My friend, Lara gives me a sharp look saying "SHUT UP!" I instantly fall silently and look back at the boy who she's been crushing on for years. I've never been able to tell anyone how my other friend, Nathalie liked him too. And...I've always secretly thought Nathalie has a better chance with him.

Of course, I wouldn't tell Laura that, not in a million years. Another secret is that I've kind of, just sort of been helping Nathalie. Not anything huge like setting them on a blind date or anything,I've just been dropping little hints everywhere and helping Nathalie look pretty every single day for school.

"So...you think I've got a chance?" Laura whispers as the teacher hands out worksheets. Nathalie asked me this just he other day. I told Nathalie "Sure!" but then, that was the truth.... I look at Laura, who's staring at me eagerly.

"Sure! Of course! Why not!?" I blurt out, receiving a stern look from the teacher. Laura beams at me and I feel the back of my palms sweat. After a few weeks after that, the guy finally asks Nathalie out. I was there to both congratulate and comfort. Laura's still trying, trying and trying. I watched everyday, how she puts on a perfect smile, mascara, or lip gloss in the school bathroom. Not knowing that the reason she's wasting her time is because I was the one who gave her false hope and false security. The reason why she puts on lip gloss every 10 minutes.

The Way It's Always Been

Thump. Thump. Above all the kicking from my sister, I could just hear Charlie (my cat) whimpering sound in the sofa. He had ripped a hole in the sofa and was sleeping in it. And somehow, kicking the sofa was supposed to get him out, or so my sister thought.

"Stop it! Your scaring him!" I yell at my sister. Thwack. A painful pain shot up my leg as she kicked me with the same force she used on the sofa. Tears sprung to my eyes, and opened my mouth to yell at her. She probably knew what I was going to say because before I could say a word, she was pulling my hair like you would rip grass off a field when your bored...only with twice or three times the force.

She tried to kick me and wouldn't let go of my hair. I shut my eyes and clawed at her face with my nails. Finally, she let go when I started screaming louder in her ear. I pulled myself off the floor and ran to my room. Before I got out of the living room fast enough, I heard "Fur-reaak" sneered from behind me.

I shut my bedroom floor and buried myself in my bed. My cheek was still bleeding from where she scratched me, my head sill pounding from where she pulled my hair. All my life, I let her do whatever she wanted with me. We never tell on each other, after the fight we'd act like nothing happened. That's how its always been.

I consider telling my mom and back out. Consider. Back out. Consider. Back out. Consider. Back out. The same thing, again and again. I glance at my stomach where scars from past fights show. I wince when I touch my cheek. I've let this go on too long. I heave myself off my bed. Whisper about the fight to my mom. Instantly I feel better. As I hear yelling. I finally fall asleep.

What I Hope to Be

Staring at the calendar. No plan scribbled down. Just plain white boxes, A cell phone in my hand, my finger hovering over the "SEND" button. My past weekends on my bed. The clicking of my cell phone. The tapping of my computer.

I hear my sister slam the front door. Another party. The another shopping spree. Then a sleepover. I felt like her cell phone was a better sister than I am.

I look at my phone and the red light blinks. My Japanese friends text me. Sometimes I just pretend my phone isn't part of this world. But I can't resist. I look down. Want to come over? Want to come to the movies?

I'll say yes. I'll say yes when one day I'm sick and tired of my plain calendar. I'll say yes when I don't have to worry about what they'll say about me afterwards. I get up. But then stop. Laughter bounces my closed door. I roll my eyes and fall back on to my bed. Another day of being trapped in my own room.

I stuff my phone in a drawer. Where it continues to vibrate. Within it my contacts list sleeps. Hibernating even.

This year I hope to be more out going.

The Last Straw

I couldn't help it. I just sort of cracked. I knew that fighting with your older sister is the source of getting grounded but all the taunting was unbearable. Esepcially coming from my sister. Let's just say Sara has the habit of being insensitive right when your already about to burst.

I was already pretty mad about getting so much homework and that I was grounded for fighting with my sister earlier this week.

"Mari is your hair supposed to be pretty? Because it looks pretty horrible on you," my sister said.

"Sara just shut up," I told her as I tried to finish my math worksheet.

"Oh yeah? What if I don't want to?" she replied. I honestly thought she had gone mental. I mean, who picks fights with their kid sister just because their bored? I glanced at Sara who was picking my make up from my dressing table for her own collection.

"Oh my gosh Sara! What are you doing? Seriously, just get out of my room!" I yell. Sara just nodded and flicked my books so they fell to the floor. "Oh my GOD!" I finally shouted and jumped up and ran at my sister, who screamed as I yanked out a fistful of hair.

"What's going on?" my mom finally came in and then next thing I know I'm grounded. Just me.

Gosh, I hate my sister. We never tell on each other or anything. So that's pretty cool. She's really okay sometimes. But most of the time I honestly can't stand her.

Some how. I'm the only one getting grounded.

The Letter

Would you open a letter that wasn't your? No? Of course not. But say this letter was fancy and baby pink and happen to be accidentally put into your mailbox. Still not tempted? Right, no. Well, I wouldn't either... But I was really bored and had nothing to do, so well it was okay if it was just ONE letter so it's no big deal! Being bored is the one condition you can do whatever you want.

I ripped open the envelope after fingering it for a very long time. I pulled out a creamy paper and started reading:

Dear Ms. Smith,

You have been invited to a cocktail party downtown on 56Th street....

Blah, blah, blah. Great, just some boring invitation to a cocktail party where everyone gets drunk. Well, I would've probably impersonated Ms. Smith and went if I were a grown-up... I'm kidding!

This invitation now owes me a day of boredom and temptation--or it might been just me. Now I probably learnt my lesson and will never open other people's letters, I know I'll just waste my time.

Lennie Minus George Is...

"S'pose George don't come back no more. S'pose he dies or got hurt, just s'pose that"

George wun't leave me, no. George wun't do that. George's careful, he doesn't do that.

Crooks, the stable buck. Bitterness and lonliness. Crooked with age. Nothing else. Just to torment and torture.

In his place, where books take him everywhere. Where no one talks to him.

George wun't leave me will he? He's careful, 'course he won't.

Lennie's fist curled, ready to do anything for George. His friend and protector.

They're totally different people, Crooks and Lennie.

Without George, its just Lennie. Lennie and his pup. Lennie and no one else. No one to protect him, no one to tell him right or wrong.

Without George, Lennie's got nothing. No one.

George and Lennie. Without one, there's not another.

Those Friends

You know how some people just don't get you? Even your friends? They call you "weird" or something and say stuff behind your back. I know that feeling. I know that when this happens, you need to get away from those people. Even if it means being a loner. Or even if those people say more things. You either run or you get into a fight.

"Mari, look at that kid over there! She looks like a guy!" my friends yelled and laughed like hyenas. I looked at the sad kid and rolled my eyes.

"Nice you know," I said. This happens to my friends alot, they tend to pick on people and laugh in their faces, I know how that feels since they did the same thing to me the oter day. My friends stopped laughing and glared at me. They walked away, like they were going away to cook up a plan to murder me. I just walked away.

The next day, I noticed something. My friends were laughing like usual. This was weird since whenever I say something to them, no one talks to me the next day. Then I noticed. They were laughing at me. I caught the words "thinks she's all that" and "I can't believe I hung out with her for a year". I mean hello? If you hang out with someone for a year, your bound to realize they're not your friend if you dont like them. You dont take an year to notice that sort of thing.

I glanced at them and they were laughing like they were going to die if they stopped laughing. I knew they'd spred rumors. I walked away. Planning on never looking back, no matter what.

Like Babies

I glared at my best friend and a pair of light brown eyes met mine.
"How could you Nathalie? You said you'd tell nobody and now half the school knows!" I said and tried to keep my voice from shaking.

"I only said that you liked you-know-who because you were mean to me the other day!" she said and her face began to flare up like fire.

"Mean? Nathalie, I just said that your hair looked like it exploded and your crush wont look at you like that!" I yell and felt my own face burning up. Her eyes glanced nervously at her own crush, as if he was going to be stolen. I followed her gaze and she caught me looking.

A plan was being cooked in my head, and I glared at her and she glared back. We both whirled around on our heels and walked away to our classes.

The next day, was bright and sunny, and I can still remember everything. Me asking someone's crush out and a pair of furious eyes glaring at me and the word "boyfriend" and "girlfriend".

I ran to the phone and picked it up on the first ring. "Hello?" I said and look at my messed up hair and blotchy face that I tend to get when my best friend isn't around to help me put make up on. "Mari Onozato, how could you?" a voice I never recognized boomed from the other end. Nathalie.

"I don't know what happened, I just had this urge to ask someone out, just like you had when you told everyone about who I like. Gosh, how similar are we?" I said happily into the phone. I heard her yell angrily and the phone went dead. I sank into my bed and buried my head into my hands and started crying.

I woke up the next morning with my face blotchier than ever and my hair was bushy and frizzy (not that it always isn't).
The month that flew by was cold and humorless. No one to talk to but some guy that I didn't even know so well. Just a big hand in mine and nothing else. Football, friends and nothing else. Everything seemed like it was either on fast forward or in slow motion.

"Hey, Nat?" I said softly, I was so tired from fake laughing and crying and getting a blotchy face. She looked up, "I broke up with him, and I'm sorry, I really am" I said and stopped myself from crying like a baby.

"I'm sorry too!" she burst out and dropped her books and we both cried. Yeah, like babies.
We walked together, our arms linked. Linked with the promise to let no guy come between us.

Of Mice and Men

"An' live off the fatta the lan'," the voice of joy and innocence.
The sway of the sycamore leaves. Cackling of the burning fire.
The smile that never changes. The sound of nature that never ends.
"I want you to stay with me, Lennie," the voice of the strength and warmth.
The scraping of the metal and the munching of the beans.
The friendship never changes. The strength never ends.
"I got you to look after me, and you got me to look after you," the men that continue their journey. Friendship, the only thread that links them.
Friendship, the only word to keep wishing for the dream.
"Never seen two men traveling together," the men who work. Who don't stop to think. The men who are lonely. The men who are robots.
I've only got you. You've only got me.
Chalk and cheese. But like wood with fire.
Two men with one dream. No one to call them strange.

Spotlight

I couldn't believe that anyone could be as self-conscious as I was right that minute. I pondered over why I'm so tongue-tied. I plucked my last thread of courage and went to stand in front of the podium...for the third time. The first time I was over-come by consternation and started speaking gibberish, so anyway the second time I'm pretty sure everything went black and the next minute I was laying prostrate on the floor, so here I go. Third time lucky right?

I coughed uneasily and the revelry from the crowd stopped. I coughed uneasily again and began speaking in my worst Japanese (honestly? I cant speak Japanese so well.) I felt gratified that no one was laughing yet, like the other schools I've been to. I fiddled with the hem of my skirt and watched the palms of my hand grow sweaty. I saw the student that showed me around the school this morning and blushed.

I quickly said my name and where I'm from and tried not to run to my seat. I looked at my sister and she rolled her eyes at me, yeah, I guess that was pathetic since everyone seemed to be waiting for me to continue or do back flips or something but I just turned red and tied my hair up into a ponytail, wishing I can kick up a fight and beseeched that everyone would stop staring!

The principal finally started clapping and everyone joined in. And I finally had the privilege or was excused to sit down. I glanced at the teenager who was showing me around like I said and quickly fixed my messy pony tail.

Yeah, so I never make the best first impressions... Especially when a thousand eyes are staring at you and the spotlight's shining so hard you can feel it burn.

Thief!

Do you ever have the urge to hurt your sister or brother real badly? Well, that's how I feel right now. I sighed heavily and glared at my sister. "Mari, get me water," Sara said, not taking her eyes off her phone. I knew I'd just waste my time arguing so I got her water. Yeah, I know what will happen if I try to argue, Sara would probably yell at me to not talk back and we'd get into a huge fight. I handed her the bottle of water and turned to get out of the room before she asked me to massage her feet or something.

"Where are you going?" Sara said just as I shut the door behind me. I groaned. And turned aroun reluctantly. "Uh... Just finishing this extra credit thing," I lied and sighed at the untouched bottle of water. "Oh, bring it here then!" she said happily. I love it when my sister's in a good mood but can't I have some privacy when I need it? My head spun as she dragged me back into her room.

"I'm really sick Sara! I honestly think I need to go lie down..." I said and her grip got tighter. And I knew I was trapped. I sat on the bed and leaned against the wall. At least I can still sleep.

My sister turned on her stereo full blast and my eyes opened and rolled over.

Finally my sister was asleep. I crept into her bag and pulled out her wallet. I pulled out the crisp 20 dollars. She mumbled angrily in her sleep. I froze and quickly put the money in my pocket and sneaked out even though I promised her I wouldnt leave.

Feeling guilty of ruining her mood, and knowing she'll find out, sooner or later.

First Impressions

I clambered on to the yellow school bus, my sweater hanging dangerously off one of my arms and the other arm being dragged onto the street. Yeah, not a very good first impression. I sank into the nearest seat and pulled out my ipod and turned it on. A gang of giggly girls turned and whispered. I caught "New girl" and "Isn't that the oldest ipod there is?" but I didnt really care and turned the volume higher.

The bus screeched and stopped. I jumped off and went to my first class. The principal met me half way and steered me to the other direction because I was obviously heading the wrong way. I looked at all the expensive designer bags and compared it to my sister's old JanSport backpack. I turned red as we walked in through the doors of my new classroom. Everyone had their cell phones out and their pink finger nails tapping at the key boards.

The teacher coughed loudly and the obsessive tapping stopped. "Good morning class! We have a new class mate. This is Mari Onozato," the teacher said. The class went silent. As they gave me a head-to-toe exam. The girls rolled theyre eyes and the guys raised their eye brows.

Mental note number 1: Always make a good impression and take at least a week on it. Which is what I did from then on.

Revenge...

I tap the eerie grey door quietly. I look down the hallway and the usually crowded and busy hall looked long and creepy. I knocked louder and had the trouble of having to cough real loudly. The door finally swung open and a pair of beady eyes looked down on me and I saw a boy sitting on an old leather chair as if he were prostrate with fear. I looked up fiercely at the woman.
"Ah! Mari! Yes, Simon told me that you dared him to do something very bad?" she said with a sickening false grin. She took a step back as if I were giving off a bad aura. I glared at her and gritted my teeth. "Yeah, it was a joke! I didn't think anyone would see" I said and flashed her a false smile. She frowned and gestured at the other leather chair.
"Now Mari, you do not have the privilege to mock teachers!" she said and her eyes were cold like I'd never seen them before. I turned my head sideways and looked up at her innocently and widened my eyes, "Mocking you? Sorry, just being polite" I say looking hurt. She sniffed and looked too haughty and snobbish. I glanced at Simon, who gave me a grateful smile. She sat on her chair and regained her confidence. "Well, let's stick to the point. Mari, I heard you dared Simon to do something offensive" she peered down at me like I was the prey and she was the predator. "Yes, you said that ma'am. And like I said it was a joke and never mean it to be carried out" I say hoping I sounded very business like. The teacher stiffened and glared at us. I stared right back. I swear she looked like she could reach under her desk and pull out a hammer that I can bet was there and hit us in the head.
She widened her fake smile until it looked creepy "Well, I'll be contacting your parents Simon and Mari, I'll let you get away with this one but I've got my eye on you!" she snickered and turned to Simon to glare at him. He whimpered.
"Ma'am, if I may, it's very rude to stare and also, it looks like harassment to me, since your putting peer pressure on him and not having any reason to since you're already punishing him by contacting his guardian" I say and glare and glare at her. She took a step back again after standing from her chair. "Dismissed" she said and practically pushed us out.

Crushed

Who likes watching your crush like someone else? No one! So why should I be the exception? I glare at a brunette being over-flirty to my crush. OK, it was sixth grade for god's sake, I'm not going to be a drama queen...not today at least. I compare my scruffy old black shoes to her brand new converse shoes. My frizzy hair, to her sleek and shiny black or brown hair that always looks like some one's hair out of a shampoo commercial even when they wake up. I'm not usually this picky about how I look, I honestly don't care. But right now I genuinely felt like a skinny bag of trash.

I gulped down what felt like tears and glared so hard at the girl I thought my eyes would burst. She probably had the feeling someone was staring at her really madly because she turned towards me. I was hoping she'd look scared or something but all she did was look annoyed and irritated. I blushed when I noticed my crush was looking at me as well. I turned around and went into the class room. A gang of girls gossiped secretively as I brushed past them, their blond hair suffocating me with vanilla.

I burst into the classroom, phew it was empty. I took her usual chair and as you can guess, I stuck some very gross and pointy things on them. I tucked the chair under her desk just as the students and the teacher came inside as the bell rang. I smiled at the over-flirty brunette and excused myself to go to the bathroom real quick. After that, I heard a painful scream.

She ended up having a really smelly skirt and needles stuck in you-know-where. She wasn't bleeding for some weird reason. But I heard she got some really bad pinches from them so she was sent home because she had a heart attack.

That's what you get when I get overly-jealous.

Dreamers

Description

Dreams occur to anyone and lots of people might choose this theme. But I just think it's something that not all people recognize even though its this irritating mystery why we dream.

Synopsis

Poems that defines dreams and why we dream.

Poems
Monna Innominata [I dream of you, to wake] by Christina Rossetti
Dream Variations by Langston Hughes
it was a dream by Lucille Clifton
Making the Bed by Burt Kimmelman
The Land of Nod by Robert Louis Stevenson
The Sandman by Margaret Thomson Janvier
The Song in the Dream by Saskia Hamilton

Texts

Tapping and tapping.
My fingers tripping over the keyboards.
I felt my heart beat getting faster and the blood rushing to my face.
SENT
Brrr. The phone vibrates. My fingers snatch the phone up.
All I see are blurry black blobs. I drop the phone and melt into my bed.
Everything is blurry. Everything is filled with sad remarks.
Dont apologize. A voice in my head argues with Just say sorry.
I wait and wait.
Another sad remark.
I am never going to have a fight on a text.
Fingers that were lingering over the cell phone grab it.
Sorry.
That was it. Period.

This day feels longer.

Another hour of fatigue.

Eyes droop, fingers drum.

Edgy tapping of pencils.

Immigration, here I come!

PENCILS (Life)

People working constantly.
Every minute, they're tiresome. Work is shedded away and so is life.
No one lives without pain. Like they say No Pain No Gain. You need pain, to make yourself brighter. Better
Can you not work? Can you just be held in someone's care all your life?
Ignorance. Ignored and left, where you rest, alone and dark. Peaceful.
Looking around. Our lives get shorter. Our mistakes rubbed out, paid off.
Soon, we get satisfaction. Soon we shed until there's no more. Everything is worth it. The pain. The work. The constant pressure.

IMMATURE

I'm mature right? Right, of course I am.
Most people act like cool, modern kids. It will be telling a pig trying to be skinny.
My old friends. Who thought they were cool. Just embarrassed me. Just go with the flow. Just be yourself. Right, that was a big success. Not.
Always going to go with that flow. Cracks form on me. My true self leaks through. Like a dam breaking.
The people around me pretending they know all the lyrics, to some song.
Usually, I roll my eyes. Now, those kind of people are everywhere. Blah, blah, blah. Hard to ignore.
Right now, I'm painting over those ugly cracks, trying to ignore it all. Was I like that? Oh...right. I was, wasn't I?
Everyone's like that at some point. Now. Now is just the time to paint over those ugly cracks.

POETRY

People stare. I had in my three-paged homework. I turn red. Everyone else has less than two pages. And I know what they're thinking. Teacher's Pet.
Of course, I don't always do my homework with three pages. Yeah, I can be normal.
Everyone's staring now. I have a tendency to blush all the time...now was one of those times.
Time is starting to go slow. Was the clock made to go so slow? I want to hide but my teacher is showing it to the class now. My poem. My homework. Oh, god.
Remember. Always remember to NEVER write big. It makes you look like a smarty pants. It makes it longer. Trust me. I learned this the hard way.
Yeah, so technically, I am a cured patient from smarty pants-itis. Okay, so I still do three-paged homework and "Teacher's Pet" things. But how can you tell a dog not to bark?...exactly.

Balboa

Bustling and pushing students fill hallways. The burning in my thighs as I trek up the stairs. People laughing about something they did. This is the start of our school day.
Almost everyday's the same. We struggle through class. Everyone glances at the clock every three minutes. This is the classes of our school.
Listening to the teacher. I stop. And start talking. We look at things that people had bought and chat until there's nothing to chat about.
Boys here are rough and some are tall. People are jostled and pushed into lockers. We hate boys.
Only a few boys are okay, but that's another story. Students wait for the bell to buzz...BEEP! Teachers yell the homework at already escaping students.
All the time, we have fun. There isn't a boring day at Balboa!

Packing

Shoes, shirts, pants, sunnies.
My last slice, last days 'til school.
Hair brush, flip-flops, book.
Gathering my things, can't wait!
What else to pack? What to bring?

My "Boring" Day

Today has got to be the best day 0f Spring Break...EVER. Well, first of all, I ran for 30 minutes NON-STOP. Anyways, here's the best part...

I grabbed my hand bag and fastened my NEW shoes and waited for my mom. We were going SHOPPING. We of course, didnt have a car (since my mom can't drive) so we walked to Paitilla to return the DVD's that we borrowed and got a taxi and went straight to MultiPlaza. I honestly felt good today. Except for the fact that the taxi driver was laughing out of the blue every so often.
We were stuck in traffic and the taxi driver laughed...again. Okay, if that taxi driver laughs one more time I swear I will THROTTLE him. So, we finally got to MultiPlaza (after resisting to throttle him for 10 minutes. We headed into the cool mall to find almost half the shops empty. But we did our shopping anyways.
"Oooh! Look! Women's Secret is open!" I said excitedly and drag my mom inside. I look around the dim-lit room and found the pouch I was looking for! I grab it as if someone was going to take it any minute now and held it in my arms. The last time I had come here there were only big pouches but now I finally found it!
I look at my mom for "approval" and after she nodded, I got out my wallet and hand $15 to the cashier person. I say thanks and clutch the plastic bags in my hands, not wanting to let go until I get home.
So, anyways, this day may seem boring to you but trust me, you could never shop like I just did with my sister moaning every step you take!
Gosh, now I can't wait to get to school and use it!!! See you all there!!!

Odd Habits

Why do I always do my posts in the morning? Especially now, in Spring Break. Oh, I'm scared I might forget about it....

Anyways, I woke up to wash my face and gasped at how much my pimples had cleared over the break. Well, duh there's still alot more clearing up to go, but all the small ones had finally vanished! I was so happy I did a little happy dance (like I did when I got my jeans) and scrubbed the bar of facial soap until it was foamy and washed my face. I reached out for my towel and noticed that it smelled. Like really smelled. I groaned. Yup, this was my sister using my towel again. I always felt that whenever I share stuff with my sister, it always seemed to end up like an untidy heap.

Luckly I had my own room and I'm not that much of a tidy person either (just look at my room and you'll see). I went into the hall and opened the wardrobe of towels and grabbed a nice fluffy one--which is my favorite--and patted my wet face (never EVER scrub your face with a towel-trust me I know).

Honestly, I go trough the same things as everyone else but why? Why is there pimples on me? It's not like I have any stress or anything but my pimples are really stressing me out. I dont know why I'm writing a post about my pimples but my fingers seem to just drag themselves around the key board and do all the tapping. That's another weird thing about me (I seem to have alot) I always have a sudden urge to do something. Like the other day I had a very strong urge to eat KFC. And just yesterday I was craving for cheese burgers. And if you think about it, they're not very healthy are they?

Oh, well. I probably have to finish up thins post or my computer will shut down (low battery.).

A Fresh Jog?

A fresh morning jog

A pant, a sweat-what more?

muscle tugs-what more?

Getting Fit

Yay! It's finally the start of Spring Break! I'm super happy since I'm going to San Blas from Thursday to Saturday. And I've decided to go to the gym every morning, which is what I did today. But I got really tired after 25 minutes of jogging. (It's harder then you think!!)

Anyways, I crawled out of my bed, after my alarm clock rang. I pulled on my yoga pants (I didn't have any gym clothes) and yanked my breathable shirt on. I quickly tied my hair into a messy, high-ponytail and looked at myself in the mirror. Okay, I did look abit weird but I was wearing my slightly-faded turquoise yoga pants and my white, wide-neck shirt. These were the closest things I've got to sporty.

My mom-who was already awake-looked up as I dragged my half-awake feet into the living room. I got myself a bowl of peaches and started munching away as I read Shopaholic and Baby for the third time.

Wait, why was I going to the gym again? Oh, right. I had to excercise since I'm extremely unfit and getting fatter every second.

I grabbed my water bottle and my ipod and headed to the gym with my mom. We got there and my mom showed me how to work it and left. Okay, lets get this over with.

Gulp Gulp. I tilted my head back and drained my water bottle. Gosh, I must've run for like 30 minutes now! I looked at the paused running machine thing and stared at the numbers. Okay, 20 more minutes to go! Was that really just 10 minutes? I resumed my running and decided I was going to do this everyday.

I did promise myself!

Cutting Back

Okay, there's no need to panick. Just a pair of gorgeous shoes and amazing white jeans. I checked both the receits over and over. It can't be right. The shoes were no less then $30!! Then why does it say, $41.35?? Okay...jeans. The jeans were of course much more expenisive than the shoes but come one! $45? Someone must've switched the price tags!! I look at the tags on the shoes and the jeans that cluttered my bed with their bags and tags. Okay, so they replaced the price tags with another price tag that says "WHITE JEANS". Forget that.

Did I really spend that much money? True, I couldn't find my future pencil-case but that doesnt mean the shopping money had to rise! I mean, I actually did a good thing! I insisted on buying it with my own money. It's not my fault my mom refused to take it....

I sit on my bed. My hair crumpled in frustration, I should really start cutting back. I could make my own pancakes instead of buying shop bought pancake mix!! I bet that'd save about $5 or something! Or I could try making my own tissue! The tissue here is a total rip-off!! Okay, forget that.

Well, the jeans were worth it. And just 'cause the shoes are sort of sticky, doesn't mean it's not worth it! I tried on my white jeans one more time. And did a little happy dance infront or my mirror. I put the sandals on and made them dance around my room. Okay, this was totally worth it.

Tick, Tick. That's two things off my Desperate Needs list! Yay! This Saturday was okay after all!